


take us back to the way life used to be

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, I don't know how to tag this properly if it wasn't clear by now, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Abuse, Spoilers for Book 5 - A Dance with Dragons, Survivor Guilt, The Night's Watch, jon snow being his honorable self, well the Ramsay Bolton treatment is implied/referenced so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 16:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2738630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Melisandre wasn't exactly wrong about *Arya* Stark arriving at the Wall on a dying horse. She just didn't know it was another Arya and that she wouldn't be alone. And where Jon consequently finds himself having to take a few complicated decisions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take us back to the way life used to be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pfalz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pfalz/gifts).



> written for the last got-exchange round - the prompt was _Theon/Jeyne: they arrive at the Wall on a dying horse instead of Alys Karstark. How does Jon react to ‘Arya’? How does he treat Theon after he destroyed Winterfell?_. The title is from a Flogging Molly song, nothing belongs to me and I apologize in advance if the timeline doesn't completely match up.
> 
> Also this is rated teen and up because there's nothing explicit in the text but heed the warnings.

“ _Jeyne_?”

Jon can barely keep the surprise from his voice – fine, he had been hoping that the red woman was right and that it would be his sister on that horse, but he hadn’t exactly put all his hopes in a vision being right.

So – it wasn’t _right_. Still, it might have been years since they last saw each other but he recognizes Sansa’s best friend instantly. She’s thinner, and older, and she’s trembling like a leaf as she raises her head and looks up at him. For a moment she looks as surprised as he is, and utterly terrified, but then her eyes go wide and she breaks down in tears.

“Jon?” She sobs. “Jon Snow? Is that really you?”

He gives her a dumbfounded nod and holds a hand out to her, to help her up, and she takes it with a vice-like grip, both her hands curling around his wrist.

She still sobs as she digs her nails into his skin and Jon has questions to ask, but he can hardly do that now.

He looks at his side and breathes out in relief when he sees Satin standing on the side.

“Satin, I need you to bring her inside and – find her some food and draw her a bath and then we can talk in my quarters. But first – Jeyne, were you – I mean, weren’t you and Sansa in King’s Landing?”

She sobs harder. “I haven’t seen her since your lord father – since Lord Stark – since he died. And – I’m here now – I can’t –”

“It’s fine,” Jon says. “We can talk later, it’s no matter –”

“It is,” she sobs, her voice suddenly going lower. “They forced me to – to be Arya Stark,” she whispers, and then Jon understands – it never was his sister marrying Ramsay Snow, was it?

He needs to get to the bottom of this, but not now. She obviously needs not to have this discussion right now, and there will be time to talk.

“You should go with Satin,” he tells her. “I will be there as soon as I can, but – take a bath and eat something and then we will talk.”

“That’s all good,” Jon hears Grenn say from somewhere behind Jeyne, “but what do we do with _him_?

Jon moves to the side to see Pyp and Grenn holding someone up – oh. Right. It was two people on that horse, but Jon completely forgot the moment he realized that it wasn’t his sister that came to the Wall. The other one – the other one is a man, dressed in filthy rags and who stinks so much that when Jon actually stops and inhales he feels himself gag. Never mind that he looks _old_ – white hair, broken teeth, and – are some of his fingers missing? Jon is impressed for a moment – if this man managed to somehow save Jeyne, he has to be a lot stronger than he looks like.

“Well. The same, I suppose? How do I call you?” Jon asks, moving to the side.

The man raises his eyes – he had been looking at the ground and they meet his own, and for a moment he looks surprised. Then Jon thinks, _he looks familiar_. But how? He’s sure that they never met before, he would remember –

And then the man’s dried, cracked lips quirk up in a self-deprecating grin that shows just broken teeth and which is frankly terrifying, except that it’s familiar as well, and –

“I think you will know very soon, m’lord,” he answers, and –

And Jon knows that voice.

“No,” he says.

“Yes,” the man answers, sounding way beyond tired. “Yes, it is.”

“ _Theon_?” Jon asks, and he knows it’s true the moment he gets the word out – the features are all warped but the eyes and the face are Theon’s, and the hands are thinner and he’s lacking fingers but the ones he has are still long and fairly graceful.

He doesn’t know what he expects for a reaction.

But the moment he blurts the name out Theon closes his eyes, says _yes_ under his breath and breaks out in sobs, as well.

\--

In the end, he decides that he will think about his personal feelings regarding Theon later, because there is no way he’s doing anything before knowing the entire story. Never mind that he couldn’t believe that Theon torched Winterfell or killed his brothers, back when he heard it, so maybe this is time he can put those doubts to rest before wondering what in the seven hells he should do with him.

Still, it ends up with him looking helplessly at Pyp and Grenn for a moment before telling them to follow Satin and just get Theon a bath, clothes and food as well as Jeyne – he can question them together, he figures, and meanwhile he can go get a grip on himself because this is not a situation he’s well-equipped to deal with.

For a moment he wishes Sam was here because he really needs someone he trusts to give him some sound advice, but Sam isn’t here, Maester Aemon is not as well and he can hardly ask Melisandre or anyone else. Never mind that he’s going to have to deal with the queen’s questions about this, but for now he doesn’t let himself think about it.

He runs through a few scenarios in his head, none of which is much pleasant, until Satin knocks on his door and says that he put together some food with Pyp and Grenn who are ready to bring it in, and his two guests are ready as well.

“Let them in then,” he says, and after Pyp, Grenn and Satin bring in both guests and food they shut the door behind them.

Jeyne looks marginally better, bundled in a fur and wearing black men’s garb – at least she’s not shaking. She’s holding on to Theon’s hand in a grip that looks fairly painful though, and Theon himself – the only improvement is that he doesn’t stink anymore. For the rest, he still looks miserable. Never mind that he has the face of a man who thinks his hours are numbered and Jon wishes he could stay as angry as he should be, but just looking at Theon is making him falter – he looks like such a ruined man that he feels bad for wanting to be angry.

He sighs and grabs a chair.

“Both of you, sit down and eat something. We are all going to, and then I want to know what happened in details.”

“Will you –” Jeyne starts. He raises a hand.

“We’re eating first,” Jon interrupts. Jeyne nods and starts eating, while Theon doesn’t even look up at him as he takes small sips out of the bowl of soup that Jon had told Satin to get ready – no one with those teeth can handle stew.

It’s not unpleasant, but Jon doesn’t know how to describe the next hour – Jeyne helps herself to three portions of stew and she polishes the plate every time, thanking him profusely every time he tells her that she can have some more. At some point she licks her fingertips that are dirty with meat grease, and it’s – she and Sansa always used to be so polite and mannered when eating. That was something Arya could and would have done, but not Sansa and her friend. Theon instead doesn’t say a word and it takes him the entire hour to finish the soup and a few pieces of bread that he let simmer in the bowl until it was soft enough to chew on. He stares down at his plate as if he’s not even sure it really exists, and he winces every time he moves even a bit, and Jon can’t even look at his ungloved hands without feeling like he could throw up what little meat he’s eating.

He ends up drinking more wine than he had thought he would in the beginning, but Theon doesn’t even touch the wine skin and Jeyne refuses it, so he ends up drinking most of it himself and at the end he still feels plenty sober.

By the time there’s no food on the table anymore, he figures it’s time to get through with this.

“Very well. Whenever you want, I’m listening.”

They look at each other for a moment, then Jeyne clears her throat and starts talking – she says her story is shorter and so she might as well say it first.

So Jon learns that after his father’s death she had ended up in one of Petyr Baelish’s brothels to be _trained_ and that she had stayed there until someone came to get her so that she could pass for his sister and marry Ramsay Snow and that Theon had to be the one confirming her identity.

“So how are you here now?” Jon asks after she gives enough hints about her bedding that he thinks he doesn’t want to know any more.

“I – I begged him to help me the day of the wedding,” she whispers, nodding towards Theon. “And he couldn’t. But – Lord Ramsay, he – he and his father had to leave Winterfell for a couple of days because it seems like Stannis Baratheon might strike and they wanted to assess the situation and – maybe he should tell you.”

“You don’t have to be here,” Theon says, the first sentence he’s spoken since they arrived.

“But –”

“You _don’t_ have to be here,” he repeats, sounding almost desperate, and Jon can guess that he doesn’t want her to know at least some of the story. Very well.

“Jeyne, Satin is probably outside. He can show you around.”

“But –”

“If it makes you feel safer tell him to get Pyp and Grenn, too. They’ll be happy to find you some more clothes and a room. You can come back when you get tired, we will be here.”

Jeyne doesn’t try to argue and Jon goes with her to the door – after she leaves with Satin he locks the door and sits back in front of Theon again.

“What is it that you don’t want her to know?”

“Everything,” Theon sighs. “But – well, I suppose she guessed. Still, better that she doesn’t hear that.”

“Fine. So, talk. I want to know what happened in Winterfell, I want to know why you killed my brothers, I want to know what in the seven hells happened to you and I want to know how you’re both here.”

Theon takes a deep breath and starts talking.

Jon interrupts just a couple of times, but for the rest of the time he just takes it all in – when he learns that Theon never killed his brothers he lets out a breath of relief and resolves to send out a few search parties the moment he can spare men and the situation here is settled – and he wishes he could just brush most of it off and assume that Theon is lying, but it’s so painfully obvious that he’s not even thinking about lying that Jon can’t even do that.

By the time Theon arrives at the wedding part of the story, he’s glad he didn’t eat that much, because what little he had is threatening to leave his stomach fairly soon.

“So,” Theon says after glossing over the bedding, thank the gods, “the – the escape.”

“You _escaped_? On your own? Without help?” He’s not going to tell them that he had agreed to send Mance and the spearwives to help without even knowing that Arya was in fact someone else.

“Surely no one let us go,” Theon sighs. “It’s – you might be angry, when I tell you.”

“You let me be the judge of that.”

Theon flinches, visibly, and then he takes another deep breath. “She asked me every day,” he says. “To help her. And I always refused and told her that she should just keep on being Arya the way I had to keep on being Reek and he wouldn’t – well. He couldn’t kill her, but – he wouldn’t be as bad as he could have been to her. And then he left for those two days and he said something before – when the guards outside asked who they were supposed to let in to bring his lady wife food, he said – he said just me because he was sure I would never – well. That I _would never_. That evening I was bringing her dinner up the stairs and there was just one guard outside the room. Usually it’d be more of them but not that day – someone had found a body in that graveyard where your lord father used to bury the servants. I can’t remember who it was that was murdered, but everyone was there and I think there was discussion of sending for both Roose and Ramsay Bolton right then instead of waiting for them to come back. So I was going up the stairs. And – it was taking me ages. Because – I guess you can imagine why.”

“I can. So?”

“I realized it was the staircase where I used to practice fencing with –” Theon stops, his voice breaking down on the word, and then he tries to say it again and Jon takes pity on him.

“With Robb?”

“Yes,” Theon says, taking another deep breath. “And – I had known for a while that I had it wrong. I should have never stayed home. I – I know I have no right to say it, but in that moment I realized that if there’s one place I should’ve been, that was the Twins.”

Theon looks up at him cautiously and Jon tries everything to keep his face straight – he had a feeling that was coming, and he wants to know the end of this.

“And I thought – I mean, since he burned Winterfell, I know that if we ever met again he’d have cut my head first thing. But then – I just, I was standing there on the stairs and I thought, _what would he say if he could see me right now_. I don’t know what else I thought but – I figured he’d have been disappointed. But – at times, he just was – sometimes he’d look at me like he thought I could be a lot better than I actually was. If it makes any sense.”

“It does,” Jon sighs. He doesn’t tell Theon that a lot of people around Winterfell often wondered why they were such good friends or what Robb saw in the Greyjoy heir – he knows Theon couldn’t possibly not have been aware of that even back in the day.

“And – I just – for a moment I wondered if I could actually try to be better. It wasn’t smart thinking, but –” He stops, fumbles for a moment and then he shakes his head and he drags down his cloak so that he can show Jon his collarbone.

Jon _really_ feels like vomiting when he sees what looks like teeth marks on there.

“This happened just before he left.” No doubt of who the _he_ is, right? “And I had been feeling dirtier than usual since then. Not that you might think it made much of a difference. But. He said things that – I just wanted to be better than that. If it makes any sense. And I thought – he wasn’t there. The guards didn’t think I was a threat. Most people left with Lord Bolton. And – he left me a knife. He thought it was amusing because – well. I’d never use it against him. And I couldn’t, I guess, but – I did use it.”

“With the guard?”

“Yes,” Theon answers shuddering. “It was just one man, and he wasn’t expecting it. I went inside, grabbed her, told her to bring a cloak and then I used a shortcut for the stables. We were lucky – no one was there. Not a guard or a soldier. It also was dark by then, so – I took the first horse I saw that looked healthy and we mounted on it and we managed to sneak out. It was snowing, too, so it was easier. I took the road to the Wall because I figured that at least you might help her out. I did not think that you would have risen this high in the meantime, m’lord, but – that’s it.”

Jon isn’t feeling any less sick. Especially with all the _m’lord_ s – since when would Theon call him that? He also would like to know one thing.

“I would help her out? Just her?”

Theon shrugs. “Won’t you?”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

“You have all the rights to cut my head, m’lord. I never thought it would be different. And it would hardly be the worst thing to happen to me.”

 _I can believe that_ , Jon thinks, except that he needs to digest this story and he can’t do that in a few minutes. Never mind that Theon touched upon something he never lets himself dwell on, but – Theon is not the only person in this room who has thought more than once that he should have died at the Twins.

He’s far from the only one. And Jon doesn’t think that Theon’s lying about it. Not when he’s shaking all over like a leaf.

That’s when someone knocks on the door – Satin says that they’re back and Jon tells him to wait a moment.

“Go with them.”

“What?”

“Go with them. If you want to stay with Jeyne for tonight do, otherwise they will find you a bed – there’s no lack of space. I need to think about what I can do and it will take me at least until morning.”

“Aren’t you –”

“Theon, taking your head was Robb’s right. And now it’s Sansa’s or Bran’s, but it never was mine and it certainly isn’t now. The moment I took my vows, my duty was to the Watch and if I march outside and kill you in plain sight I wouldn’t have a title to do that. Unless I want people to think I am carrying out business for a house that isn’t the Watch. I’m not killing you today or tomorrow, at least. So just go.”

“Thank you. M’lord.”

Then Theon stands up and hobbled towards the door – walking is obviously painful – and disappears into the hallway.

But then Jeyne walks in.

“My lord, may I –” She starts.

“Jeyne, please, I’m no one’s lord. You don’t need to call me like that.”

“ _Jon_. I know he has – I know what he did and I wouldn’t presume to ask you –”

“But?”

“But you should know something. He probably didn’t tell you. I know he wouldn’t. But. The day of the wedding, when I was about to use his name, he about panicked – he was as scared as I was. I saw him during the feast – the dogs looking for scraps were treated better. And – he thinks I don’t know, but my – my husband, he would – he would talk. About him. In detail. I tried to ask him but I didn’t – I was hoping maybe one of the guests still loyal to the Starks might have realized that I wasn’t who they thought I was. But. No one did anything until – until he did. He could barely stand up, it was obvious that he could barely even walk and I was useless – I was scared and I wasn’t really helping much. He didn’t have to do it. If someone found us – I don’t even want to think about it. And he still did it. I just – you should know that. I thought. That’s it.”

“… I think you’re right. Thank you.”

Jeyne bows gracefully before running out of the room, wiping tears from her eyes, and Jon closes the door behind her, wondering, _and what do I do now_?

\--

He ends up finishing the wine as he ponders his options.

He meant it when he told Theon he wasn’t going to take his head – it’s not just that he doesn’t have the right to do it, it’s also that the idea makes him feel like it would accomplish nothing. Theon did say it himself. It wouldn’t be the worst thing to ever happen to him, and – would it even be a punishment? Jon doesn’t think so – not after knowing what happened to the man, anyway.

That doesn’t mean that he can just – do nothing.

He supposes that Jeyne is the easiest part of this mess to deal with – after all, Ramsay Bolton could ask for his wife back, but he’s married to _Arya Stark_ in theory, and the moment Jon says that Jeyne is not Arya, the wedding will be annulled. _Along with his rightful claim on Winterfell_ , Jon thinks, and while he can hardly do anything about that, he can hope that it pushes people to side with Stannis and do away with the Boltons at least. But then, after that, there’s the problem of what she should do – he can’t send her away, but women shouldn’t be roaming free around the Wall. There’s enough discontent already because of Stannis’s queen still being on the premises, never mind Melisandre, never mind the wildling women. Sure, all things considered one person more can’t make much of a difference, but he hardly needs people to question why he would help some woman he has no relation or obligation to on accounts that they used to live in the same place a life ago.

He supposes that maybe she could keep princess Shireen company, and if Selyse Baratheon doesn’t approve then the spearwives might take her in. He will ask in the morning.

Theon is an entirely different problem.

He has no clue if his family might want him back, but Theon hasn’t mentioned them once, and he never said he wanted to contact them. He’s also technically harboring someone who turned his cloak on Jon’s family, except that he shouldn’t care about that now, should he? Still, if Stannis were here he would probably call for an execution if only because every northern lord would ask for it. Sure, he could just pretend that he doesn’t know that _Reek_ is really Theon, but he doubts Ramsay Bolton would keep his mouth shut about that. Never mind that it seems like everyone at the wedding was aware of that, from what he had understood, and if he actively endorses keeping Theon at the Wall for no reason it might be even worse – offering shelter to someone widely known across the realm for turning his cloak wouldn’t certainly create less discontent. For a moment he thinks about telling Theon to just get a ship from Castle Black and either go back home or go somewhere else so he’s not Jon’s problem anymore, but he looks like someone who barely survived the ride to the Wall. He could take him as a hostage all over again, maybe, but since when does the Night’s Watch take hostages when they should have no meddling with any specific realm affairs?

His head is hurting. And he can’t afford to do what he thinks is right, he has to do something that a Lord Commander would do without losing respect.

_If there’s one place I should’ve been, that was the Twins._

Jon drinks the last of the wine and thinks, _you don’t know how much I understand you_. For a moment he wonders what would Robb have done and then decides not to let himself consider that option for real, because he likes to think he knew his brother and he’s pretty sure that regardless of what Theon thinks, he wouldn’t have taken his head.

By the time the sun rises there’s just one option that he hasn’t discarded, and he’s not sure that everyone would take it well, but it’s the only one that would put him in a relatively not questionable position, so he figures that it’s what he will do.

First, though, he has to make enquiries about Jeyne.

\--

He takes a long bath and eats before talking to Selyse Baratheon – he certainly doesn’t need her to smell wine on him – and after he’s done he asks Satin to send for Iron Emmett and a few spearwives. Just suggesting the idea that Jeyne might attend to the princess had gained him a fairly cold response and he hadn’t pressed – the poor girl certainly doesn’t deserve that treatment, not after everything she’s been through. For the rest of the day he goes about his usual business – Satin keeps him informed about their two guests, but he says that they haven’t left the room they were sharing and Jon doesn’t press the matter.

Iron Emmett and three spearwives in tow arrive as the sun sets – Jon really does hope that he has better luck here, because after a day of reassuring men about the reasons why he’s letting the wildlings through and after another long conversation about Val’s status with Selyse Baratheon he would really like to hear decent news. He’s indeed luckier – the spearwives agree at once about Jeyne even if they don’t sound too convinced about the other half of Jon’s plan, but Emmett doesn’t have anything against it and says that he wouldn’t object, as long as everything is done by the book. Jon thanks them and says that he will let them know, and then he figures that it’s decided – he heads for the room Satin told him was given to the both of them and knocks on the door before letting himself in.

When he walks inside, Jeyne is sitting on the bed, looking down at her hands, while Theon – well, Theon had been sleeping on the ground, but he’s up on his feet (or tries to be) the moment he hears Jon coming in, and he promptly doesn’t even look up at him.

Seven hells, that shouldn’t be what makes Jon feel less comfortable with this entire situation, but it might as well be.

“M’lord,” Theon says.

“Theon,” Jon sighs, “I said already – never mind. I have to talk to the both of you.”

The fact that they both visibly brace themselves the moment he speaks the words makes him wonder, _is there something wrong with me_? He’s not trying to sound imposing or as if he’s about to be the bearer of bad news. And it’s two people who never – well, he and Jeyne always were perfectly civil to each other even if since Sansa never had much affection for him Jeyne didn’t have much as well, and he and Theon only ever got along properly for Robb’s sake and fine, maybe the rest of the time they envied each other, but still, it’s people who know him. More or less. Do they really think he’d send them back to Winterfell?

Then again, did Gilly imagine what he would ask her to do when he summoned her to his quarters and told her to bring Val’s baby to Oldtown, rather than her own?

Not for the first time and not for the last, he wishes someone else were in his place.

He takes a seat.

“So, Jeyne. I’m afraid I cannot find anything better, but the spearwives at Long Barrow would be more than glad to take you in. As far as justifying it, if I say that you’re not my sister and that he was forced to say the contrary at the wedding, I doubt anyone would question it, since I would know better than anyone. The moment I do it, the marriage would be null and – well, I can’t exactly offer shelter to someone because of – of personal reasons, but well, the spearwives don’t need excuses for this kind of thing. There’s nothing else I can think of right now.”

She stares up at him, obviously not having expected it, and then she gives him a tiny nod before breaking down into tears.

“I’m sorry,” she says, sobbing, “I just didn’t – _thank you_ , I couldn’t –”

“It’s fine. It’s the least I could do.”

He pays her the courtesy of turning his back as she sobs into her jacket and then turns towards Theon.

“About you – it’s more complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Theon replies quietly.

“If you mean that we should march outside and I should cut your head –”

“It would be less of a problem for everyone involved,” Theon replies, and then his eyes go wide in horror the moment he realizes he has interrupted him, and then Jeyne grabs his arm and –

“Stop that,” she hisses. “It wouldn’t be better for everyone involved.”

“It would,” he answers still entirely too calm for Jon’s tastes. “Even for you. Especially for you.”

“I am not doing that,” Jon says, “and please don’t apologize for interrupting me.”

Neither of them says a word, but Jon can see her hand not so subtly taking his.

“I was saying. You didn’t mention possibly going back to Pyke.”

“No,” Theon answers at once. “No. Not – not that. M’lord.”

Gods, it’s so wrong that Jon can hide a wince.

“Well, in theory I’m not supposed to harbor fugitives from anywhere. Especially when there are people who would clamor for their head for more or less legitimate reasons. And if I contacted your family anyway it would seem as if I was trying to strike an alliance with them, and I have too many people accusing me of doing that with Lord Stannis already. However, this is the _Night’s Watch_.”

He stresses the last two words, but Theon just looks at him with the face of someone waiting to be condemned to certain death.

“What I mean is, most of the people here didn’t come of their own volition and the only reason they’re here is that they would be dead or maimed otherwise. Most of the recruits are criminals, if you forgot that. So I’m going to do what any Lord Commander would do when someone comes here and tell you that if you want to take the black no one is going to stop you from doing it, and if you do then no one can make you leave.”

The silence that follows the offer is frankly not what Jon had expected, but then when Theon swallows and provides an answer, that’s not what he had answered either.

“And what use would I even be?”

“Let Long Barrow’s commander worry about that. Everyone has a use and we’re down to seek help from the people we’ve fought against for centuries, never mind that we lost a good number of men lately. You can take some time to think about it, but what I’m saying is that if you want to take the black you have that choice.”

And then –

“I don’t need to think about it.”

“You –”

“How long does it take before one can take their vows?”

Well, Jon wasn’t expecting that, but now Theon looks like someone who is being quick to take a good chance before it’s gone.

“Usually there is – well, you have to spend some time training and so on. But as things are, protocol isn’t something people will care for. You could walk out of here, find a heart tree and take your vows there right now. I don’t think anyone would notice.”

“Then – then whenever you say. M’lord.”

Jon sighs. “You know there is no –”

“With all due respect,” Theon interrupts, his shoulders visibly shaking, “if you were about to say there is time to think about it, there isn’t. She needs to – she can’t be Arya any longer, and if someone comes here for us, then – no. There is no time. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean –”

“Find something heavy to wear. I can’t go to the weirwood with you but I can send Pyp and Grenn to bring you there and back again. Then you can both leave for Long Barrow in a few days, the commander already knows. Don’t thank me. Please just don’t.” He can see it on both of their faces and he doesn’t really want that – he wants to feel like he’s doing this because it’s what he’d have done even if he wasn’t the 98th Lord Commander, and if they keep on thanking him profusely as if he was their sovereign or _something_ he can’t even delude himself into thinking that the last two people who didn’t somehow disappear into thin air in the last few years and who knew him as Jon Snow still might see that person instead of – of the man he’s being forced to become.

“Can I go with him?” Jeyne asks. “I mean. I wouldn’t – I can’t, but –”

“Of course. I will see the both of you when you’re back.”

He leaves the room before he can hear a word of thanks again – he finds both Pyp and Grenn and asks them to please go to the weirwood with Theon and tells them to make sure no one notices – at some point it’s going to be bound to come out, but he still hopes to keep his presence hidden. He knows he can’t keep Jeyne’s.

He walks back to his quarters, lights a candle and starts writing down ravens. One for Winterfell, one for King’s Landing, one for Dorne, one for Highgarten, one for the Vale. For a moment he considers Riverrun, then he remembers that the Kingslayer somehow took it.

He writes down that the Boltons’ claim is invalid, as the girl that Ramsay married is not Arya Stark and he can testify for that, and he informs that while the Night’s Watch will not take any further part in this dispute, he will offer protection to the girl. For a moment he debates on whether he should say who she really is, and then he realizes that he will have to anyway, and so he adds that her real name was Jeyne Poole and that she used to live in Winterfell. He doesn’t write down any other names, figuring that anyone reading that letter will understand who orchestrated the whole deal, and then writes it down again until he has five letters. He signs them, seals them and gives them to Satin telling him to make sure they use their best ravens to send them over.

As the door shuts, he looks down at his ink-stained hands and thinks, _at least Arya never married that monster_. It’s moderately comforting, except that of course it means that he doesn’t know where Arya is, same as he has no clue of where Sansa is. Now that he also knows that Bran and Rickon weren’t killed either – that’s a moderately comforting thought, too, but he has no idea of their whereabouts still, does he? It’s somehow cruel, he thinks, that he thought that almost his entire family had died just to find out that it wasn’t the case, but still having no clue of where any of them are.

\--

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Pyp is standing in the doorway, Grenn at his side – they obviously haven’t been back for long.

“Of course. Get in, you don’t have to stand. So, did he –”

“Say his vows? Yes, that’s not what I thought you should know. I mean, everything went fine, but – ah, hells, let’s just say it the way it is. We got to the weirwood, and he was ready to say the damn vows, but then the girl asked us if we could wait a minute.”

“So we said of course, it’s not like we were in a hurry or anythin’,” Grenn takes up. “So she walks up to him and tells him something, and he says no, and she insists but we couldn’t hear because she was keeping her voice low, and he tells her that it would make no sense whatsoever and she has to be japing. She keeps on saying that no, she told him back at the wedding and she’ll do it. He tells her that it doesn’t matter _what she said at the wedding_ and she would be ruining her life for good if she really did that, and then – what did she say, Pyp?”

“Let me think – ah, yes, that it’s highly likely that neither of them will survive the winter anyway. I fear that it’s our fault that she said that, but – when we were showing her around yesterday, we had to tell about the Others. How were we going to explain the wildlings otherwise?”

“Right. So she says that she wants to keep that promise and he says, it’s nonsense and he’s about to take his vows so what is even the point, and she says that it don’t matter and it’s her choice and she wants to. At that point he just – he looks at her and nods and – well, fuck me, they got married.”

“ _What_?” That was not where Jon had thought this was going.

“They knelt down in the middle of the snow, said a couple quick vows in front of the heart tree and then she stood up and came over to us and said that it was all set now and he could say his other vows whenever he wished. So we told him how it went, he took them and we came back. I guess she had her reasons,” Pyp says, shrugging once at the end. “Still, I doubt he’s going to father any children regardless of the vows. Anyway, we thought you should be aware.”

“Right. I guess it doesn’t really change anything, but – I guess they had their reasons. Thank you for doing that.”

“’Twas nothing,” Grenn agrees. “But you could dine down in the hall once in a while, you know?” He flashes Jon a small smile before he leaves, Pyp nodding and following him in tow, and – right. How long has it been since he ate with his friends rather than here?

Still, now he’s curious – there are married men in the Watch, all former criminals or crooks, but he doubts any of them took a wife just before having to forsake her by taking the vows.

He thinks about how they touched each other, about how Jeyne’s fingers would wrap around Theon’s with that seemingly painful grip, and he decides that he’s not going to ask unless he’s prompted to.

\--

“I sent the ravens,” he tells Jeyne the next morning. “If you want to be here when I get an answer –”

“It’s probably better if we go,” she answers quietly. “I can see people talking. Some of them are saying that you should be more careful while meddling with the realm’s affairs, and I realize that this has been a problem you didn’t need, my lord, and –”

“Jeyne. If you want to thank me just never call me like that again, how about that?”

She looks up at him, her lips curling up in a tentative smile. “How would you like it then?”

“How about the way you always called me back in Winterfell?”

“Fine. _Jon_. Thank you.”

“I will write when I have answers, but don’t worry – if Bolton tries to come here to demand anything back he’s not going to be able to do anything.”

For a moment she looks as if she’s debating doing something, and then – then she moves forward, throws her arms around his shoulders and squeezes, obviously putting as much strength into it as she can. Then she moves back before he can return it.

“Thank you,” she says again, and heads for the horse waiting for her in the empty yard. It’s barely sunrise and no one is around yet.

Theon, who had been standing behind her, takes a few tentative steps towards him.

The moment he opens his mouth, Jon can guess what he’s about to say. “Don’t call me like that,” he says. Theon’s lips fall shut in a thin line.

“Then how? I can’t – I can’t do it. Not like she did. Not when I don’t – I learned my lesson. I should – I used to – I was horrible to you.”

“I was horrible to you, too.” Jon shrugs. “And it would be refreshing for someone to be horrible to me right now. As far as we know, we are the only three left from – from back then. And I don’t think any of us thinks that we are the ones who deserved it, so – don’t. You can think you owe me if it makes you feel better, but there’s no need for my lords and so on.”

“How can you?”

Jon looks straight at him. “It’s not my place to judge you, all right? For what it’s worth I think Robb would have sent you here rather than kill you if he were alive, and I like to think I’m doing what he’d have wanted me to do.”

Theon looks like someone physically punched him in the face at that, but then he gives Jon a small nod, and it’s obvious he’s trying not to cry.

“I don’t deserve it,” he says.

“Maybe you don’t, but that’s not the point. If we ever survive this and if – if my siblings are ever found, there will be enough time to discuss it. For now – I will see you both soon, I guess. Just go, the sooner you leave the sooner you’ll be there.”

Theon stares at him for a moment, gives him another small nod and thanks him with his voice breaking on both words before turning his back to him. Jeyne helps him up on the horse before mounting on hers and he leaves before he can watch them disappear.

So maybe he smiles just a little to himself even if by all means he shouldn’t, but no one is around to see him, is he?

He wonders if he took the right decision,

( _he doesn’t know yet that a few years from now he’ll see his long-lost sister and her equally long-lost best friend clutching at each other for dear life in Winterfell’s ruined yard and that he won’t have doubts about it while seeing it happen and he won’t when Sansa will run into his arms and thank him for keeping her friend safe when he didn’t have to_ )

and decides that even if it isn’t, he’s not going to regret it for now.

By now the sun is rising, and all of a sudden he feels a pang in his stomach – right. He hasn’t eaten since yesterday and he didn’t sleep tonight either. He thinks about what Grenn had told him, and he smiles to himself again. Then he heads for the mess hall instead of going back up to his quarters.

End.


End file.
